I didn’t know what to do when I looked into the mirror and saw another face in there. It wasn’t my face, it was someone else’s. There in the darkness staring back me was the face of a stranger. You. I expected to see my face in the mirror, but what should have been my face had been replaced. That sight fucked my head up. I thought I was dreaming. My heart skipped a few beats in initial shock. I looked at myself again. But it wasn’t me staring back at me. It was you. Your eyes boring into mine, just like my eyes bore into your eyes, looking for an answer.
You. The stranger.
What do I do now? I’m afraid. But, do I run in fear or let my curiosity take the better of me and stay? Curiosity killed the cat. But I’m no pussy. I stay. All I see is your face. The questions run inside my head, leaving dusty thoughts unsettled. Who are you? Where am I? What the fuck is happening?!
Why can’t I see my face? I ask you. You ask me the same question. You close your eyes and open them, as I do the same. Where is my face? Are you my face? Am I you? Is this really me? What if it is? Then who am I? Who have I been living as for so long? Who did I see to perceive myself as me? Where did I create the image that is me?
What is my face?
Am I the person in the mirror? Is the mirror real?
Am I you?
What if I was in the mirror all along? And through the mirror was the real world where you are, and I believed all along that I’m in the real world? Is my reflection the reality, or am I the reflection? If I was the reflection, how did my life feel real? Was it real? If this felt real, how real would reality feel? Would I feel everything I’m numb to now? Would I feel pain.. love.. pleasure.. faith…? Would a step into reality through the looking glass ebb away the cold numbing winds embracing me? Will I feel the warmth? Would I hear what I long to hear but which I was never meant to? Would I see everything I am blind to? Would I feel.
But I don’t. Reality doesn’t feel so real.
I hear nothing. I see nothing. I feel.. I feel empty. Like I did before. On the other side. Is nothing different?. Am I inside two identical parallel universes? Two identical organisms inside two different images.What is real now, when the two sides to this story, are the same? Am I the mask? Am I the face?
Am I real? Am I empty?
I am. I am empty.
After all, I am my own reflection. How real could I be?